


At Gunpoint

by LaKoda0518



Category: Whiskey Tango Foxtrot (2016), Wild Target (2010)
Genre: Anal Sex, Assassins & Hitmen, Biting, Crossover, Flirting, Gun Kink, M/M, Rare Characters, Rare Fandoms, Rare Pairings, Rough Kissing, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Scottish Character, Scratching, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:22:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23824522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaKoda0518/pseuds/LaKoda0518
Summary: It had never been Iain’s intention to attempt to seduce the well-known assassin but, as the evening had worn on, their conversation had surprisingly shifted from small talk to uncharacteristically flirty banter.
Relationships: Iain MacKelpie/Hector Dixon
Comments: 4
Kudos: 14





	At Gunpoint

**Author's Note:**

> This little disaster of a ship came from a roleplay idea with a friend lol Iain MacKelpie (Whiskey Tango Foxtrot) and Hector Dixon (Wild Target) just fit together for some reason and it worked really well in our heads lol also, it was an excuse to have two Martin Freeman characters shag each other senseless 🙈🤣 hope you enjoy!!

Iain leaned in closer, relishing the thrill of the chase and the satisfying taste of victory that he was so close to claiming for himself. With his hands on either side of Hector Dixon’s head, he couldn’t help the wicked little smirk that worked its way onto his face. It had never been Iain’s intention to attempt to seduce the well-known assassin but, as the evening had worn on, their conversation had surprisingly shifted from small talk to uncharacteristically flirty banter. 

Taking the lead as they descended into new and once-forbidden territory, Iain had found it easier than he thought to sway Hector into following him into a more secluded room at the back of the pub. It was in this room that he had found himself merely inches away from brushing his lips against the assassin’s, whose back was flush against the wall as Iain’s body loomed over him. The current success of his latest conquest had gone so well in fact, that Iain had been completely taken aback when Hector lunged forward, overpowering him, and flipped to shove him against the wall instead. 

With their positions completely switched and Iain’s chest aching after having the wind knocked out of him so abruptly, Hector had withdrawn a pistol from a hidden holster at his side and shoved the nose of the gun down the front of Iain’s jeans. “Are you fucking with me right now?” he growled, nudging the nose of the pistol against Iain’s balls. The Scotsman gasped, flinching slightly as Hector’s freehand gripped the front of his shirt roughly. “Because if you are, I’ll blow your balls off along with everything attached to them.”

Iain swallowed thickly. Over the course of the last thirty seconds, something in their encounter had shifted, bringing him to his metaphorical knees as his brain struggled to make sense of it all. He was definitely skating on thin ice as far as his sex drive was concerned, but he tried his best to play the situation to his advantage. If he was smart, he would apologise and try a much more gentlemanly approach; who knew, maybe Hector was more traditional than Iain had thought to give him credit for? 

Keeping his eyes on Hector’s face and making a bold attempt to pretend that the gun shoved down his pants didn’t terrify him within an inch of his life, Iain relaxed his shoulders and sighed. He let an apologetic sadness creep into his gaze, knitting his eyebrows together and frowning slightly to showcase his best puppy-dog pout. He had learned at a young age that he happened to have a certain charm about him that seemed to enable him to weasel his way out of just about anything just as long as his mouth didn’t get in the way. 

“Aw, come on, now… I wasna doin’ nothin’ of the sort. Do I look like the kinda guy that would lead you on?” he asked, letting his lip poke out a bit more for added emphasis. 

Hector eyed him suspiciously and tightened his grip on the front of Iain’s shirt as he pressed the pistol further into Iain’s groin. The Scotsman stiffened slightly but kept his gaze locked on Hector’s. With a low growl, Hector narrowed his eyes and let out a sharp huff, “Why should I believe you? Your reputation leaves much to be desired in that aspect.”

The assassin wasn’t wrong, that much was obvious, but Iain still felt a stab of irritation at having his loose ways shoved in his face so eloquently. “Aye, but at least ye _ know _ those things about me,” he argued. “So, why would I try to hide it from ye if I was only fuckin' about, hm? Besides, if you blow my junk off then I’d have a pretty hard time fuckin' with anything, don’t you think?”

Taking his chances with the lighthearted joke, the Scotsman flashed an innocent grin. He knew he was being cheeky, but he figured making light of the situation might give him a bit of an advantage. It had surprised him when Hector had jumped straight to the conclusion that Iain couldn't actually be interested in him but rather he was using him for some sort of mysterious personal gain. While the accusation seemed perfectly sound to Hector, it was actually quite ludicrous in Iain’s eyes. He usually made it a general rule for himself to only pursue women while in the public eye, taking pleasure in the occasional rendezvous with another man behind tightly closed doors. It was true that Iain MacKelpie was a well-known slag, more or less, but the depths of his depravity wasn’t as widely known.

Hector’s eyes hardened and he seemed to study the Scotsman for a moment before letting out a sigh of resignation. He snatched Iain forward by the front of his shirt, causing Iain to raise up on his toes slightly, only to release him roughly as he pulled his pistol from Iain’s trousers and holstered it once again. Taking a step back, the assassin folded his arms over his chest. “Fine… Let’s say I believe you,” he said, tightly as he pursed his lips. “What does that mean for us, now?”

Relieved to have his pants restored to a ‘gun free’ zone, Iain licked his lips. What he said and did now could change the course of the evening drastically so he had to act with complete transparency. Catching his bottom lip between his teeth, he mulled his next move over for a moment before taking a cautious step toward Hector. “‘What does that mean for us, now?’” he echoed. “Well… I think it means that I have every intention of seducing you until you succumb to my charming personality and rugged good looks, but that’s just Phase One of the whole she-bang, isn’t it?” he chuckled softly, allowing his more playful side to venture out once more.

A fresh wave of arousal washed over him as Iain noticed Hector shift slightly; the assassin didn’t flinch or back away, but his thighs gave a slight involuntary twitch that instantly drew Iain’s attention. He was well on his way to having Hector right where he wanted him and, if he kept his focus, it wouldn’t take much to get him into bed. "But, I'd say the rest of that is up to you, wouldn't you agree?" he continued, deflecting a part of the question back to Hector.

Stiffening, Hector pulled his lips into a thin line. The reaction was more defensive than offensive and something in that tiny gesture alone struck the Scotsman as interesting. Iain could tell that he was trying not to give into the temptation but the struggle was indeed wearing him down. However, without knowing a detailed history of the assassin's previous sexual experiences, it was hard to tell whether the cause for that temptation was a wild, sex-addicted lust or a sense of curiosity that could only be likened to a sweet siren song falling upon virgin ears.  _ Wouldn't it be intriguing if it were the latter? _

Hector swallowed, keeping his facial expression tight yet neutral as he spoke. "Yeah, I see what you're saying, but if you're as good as they say you are, do I even stand a chance?" he asked, tilting his chin up in a subtle sort of challenge.

"Oh, it's like that is it?" Iain asked, licking his lips as his eyebrows raised curiously. "Well, Hector Dixon, let me tell you this…" The Scotsman paused for a brief moment as he took yet another step forward, taking a deep breath and raising his hand to Hector's cheek. Allowing the mask of cool indifference to melt away, Iain fixed Hector with a hard look in an attempt to showcase every last dirty thought he'd had about him in the past half an hour. He let his index finger trace the hard line of Hector's jaw before resting his fingers just under Hector's chin, holding it in place as he studied his face. For added emphasis, he pressed his hips flush to the assassin's, earning him a sharp gasp of surprise as his erection rested hard and heavy against Hector's thigh. When he finally spoke again, his voice was deep and gravelly - a low growl rising up from the depths of his chest, intensified by the thickness of his accent. The words left his lips in an eerie rumble that raised the tiny hairs at the nape of Hector's neck. 

"If and when ye do finally give into me, ye will never long for the touch of another because every last fiber of my being will be ingrained in yer DNA. My name will be the only word left on yer lips, the only syllable yer tongue will even be able to comprehend… and you're goin' to love every last fuckin' second of it."


End file.
